Prom Queen
by charisma5
Summary: A/U... based on movie ''She's All That." Buffy's a geek that William based a bet upon. Love, lies, and betrayal. *IMPORTANT A/N*
1. Prologue

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
Disclaimer: Here, I'm supposed to say something witty and funny. But since I'm neither of these things, nor intelligent in any way, I'm hoping that you could somehow just imagine I've said something that made you collapse with rib-cracking laughter. Then remember that the bearded God, Joss Whedon, and his world-dominating corporation, Mutant Enemy, own all of these characters. The movie is owned by Alliance Films, those lucky bastards, them.  
  
A/n: I absolutely and totally loved the movie "She's All That." And when I saw all these amazing film-inspired Spuffy fictions, I really just couldn't resist, sadly to some. So here is the crappy yet still palatable story that I came up with :) It's based on the movie, but I added my own touches (namely more hardcore sex scenes, swearing, and booze. . . uh, woops, the sensors! I meant to say that I just made the story my own.) So, that's all I have to say for now. Read it, reflect on it, and then tell me what you think.  
  
And the story unfolds. . .  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
Quick hands cut out words and pictures, soaking them in tinted water and glue. The blue paint splashed on the canvas, mixing with red and purple squiggles. With quick brush strokes and swirls, the paint was shaped to form intricate images, along with the newspaper headlines and pictures.  
  
Buffy Summers, mousy artist, looked at her masterpiece, smiling in satisfaction as she swept back a stray piece of long blonde hair into her strange twist. She wiped off her wet hands on her artsy smock, then pushed away her brushes and headed up the stairs out of her basement.  
  
She walked down the hallway holding a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, and holding a cup full of orange juice. With the back of a hand she pushed up her slipping glasses, then as she reached her younger sister's closed bedroom door she stopped in front of it. She rapped on the back of it once, calling loudly, "Dawn! Wake up! It's time for school, brat."  
  
Buffy waited awhile, then rolled her eyes and called again. Still no answer, which meant Dawn was ignoring her and going back to sleep. She smirked in a purely devilish manner, and then said, "If you don't wake up, I'm gonna spit in your juice." Buffy waited once more, and still silence came from the room. She got a good one ready, her mouth full of a nice chunk of spit. She started making sloppy wet spitting noises, as she yelled "I got a good one right here, and it's going right in your juice!"  
  
The spit made it way out of her mouth, and the second before it hit the orange liquid the bedroom door flew open, her sleepy sister Dawn glaring at her behind a mass of tangled brown hair. Buffy sucked up the spit smoothly and smiled brightly at Dawn, holding out the plate and cup.  
  
"Good morning!" she chirped brightly, and Dawn just scowled at her as she accepted her breakfast, taking a sip of clean juice.  
  
*?*?*?*  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Earthquakes! Only two months left until the end of school. Welcome back, everyone. Here's a little music to get everyone going." The school DJ's voice, who's owner was Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne, came through the loud speakers in both the school building and the campus. Soon music followed, pumping over masses of students back from vacation.  
  
Buses pulled up in front of the posh high school, along with hot cars and a few other not-so-hot-cars that belonged to the parents. Buffy, laden down with her huge painting that seemed bigger then she was, slipped out of her mother's van along with Dawn behind her. Their mother Joyce smiled at the two as they shut the doors.  
  
"Bye, guys! Have a good day at school. I'll be here to pick you guys up after school." She called out cheerily, and they both said bye to her, half- heartedly, as they trudged up the sidewalk to the hell mouth, Sunnydale High, to start the rest of the year.  
  
In the student parking lot, in the space specifically provided for the senior class President (it was even complete with a sign), a black jeep screeched into it almost carelessly. A teenage boy hopped out, wearing black jeans and combat boots. He sauntered up the steps of the school, and merged with hundreds of other students in the main hallway.  
  
He walked along until he reached a wall, where his picture, along with his name, hung for all to see. He smirked as he gazed into the smiling picture of him, William 'Spike' Siler. A bleached hair, blue eyed, and high cheek boned guy looked back at him. He turned around and cruised down the hallway, black duster flaring behind him, blue eyes sparkling and smirk firmly in place. Girls called out to him, eager for him to notice them. He smiled and winked as two cute girls walked by. One of them called out, "Hey, Spike!"  
  
He turned his megawatt smile on, eyes bright as the clear sky, and replied in his British accent, "Hey, Julie. What's happening?" He continued on his way, leaving the two girls behind.  
  
The girl he had spoken to screeched happily and said to her friend, "He knows my name! He spoke to me!" Her friend just gave her a look, while shaking her head in exasperation.  
  
"He called you Julie!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"Your name is Sarah," her friend said dutifully, and they both just shared another look before shrugging and continuing on to class.  
  
Down in another row of lockers, Buffy met up with her best friend, computer expert Willow Rosenberg. Willow smiled brightly at her blonde friend, as Buffy grudgingly pulled the appropriate books out of her locker, throwing her bag into the back of the metal shelving.  
  
"Did you see the interview yesterday night on Zeke Donner? Oh, he's so hot!" Willow said dreamily, slumping against the wall with a dreamy look on her cute face, huge books clutched tightly in her hand. Buffy shot her a look.  
  
"What happened on trying not to obsess about people that you'll never even meet?" Buffy asked Willow, and Willow flushed.  
  
"Well . . . I'll start tomorrow." Willow gave Buffy a bright smile, and Buffy rolled her hazel eyes but smiled back too, going back to the task of finding the right books.  
  
?*?*?*  
  
The sky was bright, the sun shining. Spike Siler cruised out of the main building, face splitting into a huge smile as he spotted his two good friends, Xander Harris and Angel Connor. The two spotted Spike at the same time, and they all called out to each other.  
  
"Hey man!"  
  
"Hey dude!"  
  
"What's up, my homey?"  
  
As the three met, they all slapped hands. Together they started walking toward their next class, Angel amusing them with his stories from his Spring Break vacation. "Hey guys, check it. Guess who jammed a 30-year old flight attendant at 26 000 feet on his route to Cancun?" Angel said to the other two, grinning cockily. Spike just rolled his eyes and smiled, but Xander shook his head and laughed.  
  
"Bullllll-shit!" he said to Angel, and Angel put up two hands. "Hey man, I swear to God!" he replied, and the other two accepted his answer. After all, their tall brunette friend was notorious for stunts like those. He was even part of the 'Mile High Club', so his story kinda made sense.  
  
"So, Spike, how was your break, dude?" Xander turned to Spike and asked. Spike just shrugged, and answered coolly, "Oh same old shit, skiing with my parents in Banff. Okay I guess." Xander nodded, but Angel was to busy knocking over a kid's books to answer. He snickered to himself.  
  
Spike got a serious look on his face. He looked at his two friends. "Did it occur to you guys that we only have two more months left of our high school careers?"  
  
Angel gave him a look. "Yeah, only like every five minutes." He said, and Xander nodded in agree. Spike chuckled, and said, "No, but its bloody strange. I was driving through the school gates this morning, and it was like, tomorrow isn't just tomorrow, man. It's the future. You know?" He looked at the two other guys expectantly. They both looked clueless.  
  
"No." They answered in unison, Spike shrugged, and the three just continued on their way.  
  
Heading towards them were their friends, and also the most popular girls in school. Anya Meyers, Faith Sampson, and Harmony Kendall. Missing was the head of the group, and Spike's longtime girlfriend, Cordelia Chase.  
  
Faith, in a tiny little dress, was walking with her cell phone, as usual, attached to her ear. The boys smirked, as she said into the phone with her usual bitchy attitude, "Well than can I please speak to somebody who doesn't have their head up their ass?"  
  
Angel grinned at her and then said, "Well, well, well. Look who's come back from Spring Break looking all fine and shit." Faith ignored him as she continued talking on the cell. Angel took the opportunity to grab her around the waist and pull her to him.  
  
Xander looked at Angel. "Angel. For the sake of all black people, even though I'm not one myself . . . Shut up."  
  
Faith glared at the two guys before pushing away from Angel, hand over the mouthpiece of her phone. "Scusi, on the phone here people!" She sauntered of to a more quiet place, saying "Yes, I'll hold", presumably waiting to talk to a person that didn't have their head stuck up their ass.  
  
Trailing behind Faith was Anya and Harmony, both who were good friends with Cordy. Anya smiled coyly at Xander, who was her sometimes boyfriend. Spike rolled his eyes and then asked the two, "Have you guys seen Cordy?"  
  
Harmony and Anya glanced at each other, and were silent for a moment, Anya pulling on a fake confused and lost expression she did just so well. Spike sighed impatiently. "You know, Cordy, my girlfriend?"  
  
"Yeah," Angel chimed in. "You know, tall, kinda yells at everybody?"  
  
Harmony just shook her head and tossed back her hair. "No." she said shortly. "Why?"  
  
Spike looked at her exasperation, and followed as the two girls pushed past him and started walking again. "Hmm, I don't know, maybe because I haven't spoken to her since she left for Daytona."  
  
Suddenly a tall girl, clad in a skin tight pink tube dress, flounced through the crowd, snobbily pushing past innocent bystanders, her wayward hand bag smacking people. Though a total and complete bitch through and through, a trail of admiring eyes watched her retreating figure.  
  
Her eyes fell on her bad boy boyfriend, who was smiling at her and holding his arm open. But she just threw a disinterested smile at him, and then bounced out of his arms and continued walking until she met up with her group. Spike, surprised and confused, just followed her as all of them made their way to class.  
  
"Oh god, does anyone have gum?" she asked dramatically. Faith said, "I got it," and she pulled out a stick from her small purse. The bell rang, and the three girls sped up, thought Cordelia held back as she unwrapped her gum and popped it in her mouth. Spike, still confused, stopped questioningly behind her with Xander and Angel flanking him.  
  
Cordelia hummed softly to herself, noticing her boyfriend, and then whipped around and said, "Spike. I've been doing some thinking. This," she motioned to herself and then to Spike, indicating their relationship, "just isn't working for me anymore."  
  
She slowly pulled her bag over her shoulder, as to not irritate the apparent new tattoo that marked her left shoulder. Spike watched her walk away from him, mouth open and eyes wide. Xander had the same look, though he always had the look on his face, so it was hard to tell what he was really thinking. Angel started laughing.  
  
"New tattoo?" Angel asked Spike, and then burst into laughter again. Spike just glared at him, and stalked off to class still dazed, confused, and upset. Xander just shook his head and muttered, "Damn", before Angel and himself followed their friend.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
  
  
*To be continued . . . 


	2. Chapter 1

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
A/n: Alright, close your mouths. I know it's a quick update, but aren't ya'll just so proud? The story didn't really move forward at all in the last chapter, so I'm hoping that we get some action in this one (actually, you and me both). If you haven't seen the movie, I'm hoping that you can still enjoy the story anyways. And by the way, if you don't like my writing, then don't complain. I don't ask for flames, so I don't expect them. After all, if you wanna send me hate mail, I'll sic my Spike on you. My evil, bad, rude Spike. Actually, scratch that. Evil and bad Spike stays with me, all night long :)  
  
Drum roll, please.  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
Spike sat expectantly beside a bored Cordy, who was busy examining her nails, fidgeting like she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. The two were on the quad at lunch time, after Spike had demanded that she tell him exactly why the hell she had broken up with him so abruptly, right after coming back from a vacation in Daytona. He had told Xander that a vacation in a hot place where there would be millions of horny, half-naked guys ogling his girl's goods, was not the best place for their girlfriends to go, but no, it had to always be Xander's way.  
  
Spike sighed to himself, than loudly cleared his throat.  
  
"So, new tattoo. New attitude. You want to tell me exactly what happened in Daytona, luv?" Spike asked Cordelia, and she sighed in exasperation. She rolled her dark eyes and at him and flipped back her shiny mane.  
  
"Well, if you just want to torture yourself . . ." she trailed off, taking one look at his intense blue eyes, and then decided answering was a must at this moment. She took a moment to think, and then began her story.  
  
"Well, ok, what if. So, we go to this club one night, right? And we have a few drinks, and Faith gets totally plastered. She starts grinding with this old guy on the dance floor, and then next thing we know she's totally macking with him, tongue and everything, for like twenty minutes." Cordelia paused to have another laugh, probably mentally recounting that image. Spike shot her a death glare and she hurriedly continued talking.  
  
"Well, imagine our surprise when we find out this guy is Zeke Donner's hairdresser-" Spike cut her off, with a confused look on his face.  
  
"Wasn't he gay?" Spike asked her, and the two were both silent as they contemplated this, deep in thought. Finally Cordelia nodded, biting her lip, and she answered, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was. But anyways."  
  
"Yeah, anyways."  
  
"So he invites us to this party the next day, with all these way important producers and stuff. It's a beach party and everyone's just dancing. MTV had these girls dancing on these little stages, and they were being hand picked from the crowd to go and dance and be one TV. Me and Faith were competing to see who would get picked, and she was so majorly pissed that I was the one and she wasn't, and I got to be on MTV-"  
  
"Is there a bloody point to this story? Like the one where you fuck me over?"  
  
"Yeah, relax, I'm getting there. So I go up, and start doing my thing. But I, like, stumble, and I was going to fall off, which would have been so embarrassing, cause it was on TV and everything. So I grab on to the nearest shoulder, and it turns out to be the majorly toned shoulder of Riley Finn!"  
  
"Riley Finn?! What kind of a name is that?" Spike asked incredulously, snapping Cordelia out of her Riley-induced faze. She just glared at him and shot back, "Well what kind of a name is Spike? Riley is from the Real World."  
  
"Like what, Receda?" Spike asked her, forehead scrunched up.  
  
"No!" Cordelia answered in frustration. She held up a hand, waving it as she talked. "You know? Real World, LA, Second Season?"  
  
Spike thought silently for a moment, than started laughing as recognition washed over him. "Riley Finn, the no-necked farm boy?"  
  
Cordelia just made a face at him, then looked up into space as she recalled the later events of her time spent with Riley. "The rest of the days were kind of a blur. I just remember a lot of sex and going to the beach, and then having some more sex. I even got this tattoo so that we could always remember out time together."  
  
Cordelia was still gazing into nowhere, absently running a figure over her tattoo, which was a heart with a stake through it, while Spike was trying to process the weird information. Basically she left you for some cow-fed jock that has no future, or neck for that matter. Spike then nodded to himself, finally getting it. He turned back to Cordy.  
  
"So is that it then?" he asked her. She nodded.  
  
"Pretty much, yeah." She looked at him.  
  
"But don't worry, we'll still go to Prom together. I mean, it is only appropriate for the King and Queen to go together." She reached forward to grab his face, but he pulled away, his eyes stony and cold. Cordelia rolled her eyes.  
  
"What, did you think I would leave high school still dating you?" She looked at Spike expectantly, who was wearing a sad face. She gave a pitying, yet still mocking smile as she noticed this.  
  
"Oh my god, you did, that's so sweet." She threw him a saccharine sweet smile, standing up and pulling her bag back over her shoulder.  
  
"Ouch! Can you believe that this thing still hurts?" she said, referring to her shoulder. Spike just watched her saunter off carelessly. He turned to look, and saw that everyone had been watching them. As soon as they noticed his glare, everyone went back to their lunches and chatter resumed again.  
  
"Bloody effin' hell," he muttered to himself.  
  
*?*?*?*  
  
Spike stalked down the stairs as the final bell rang. Xander sidled up to him, giving his friend a sympathetic look as he adjusted his backpack. Just then, the voice of the school DJ filtered out of the speakers.  
  
"My condolences go out to a certain guy that got dumped today, by his longtime, magically delicious girlfriend."  
  
Spike stopped in his tracks, jaw tensing as he heard the statement. Xander just shrugged his shoulder easily and gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back. "Hey, don't worry man. Nobody will know that it's you." Then the next part came through, to be heard by the thousands of students at the school.  
  
"Just hang in there, Spike. It happens to the best of us. What doesn't kill you, will hopefully make you stronger, man."  
  
Spike cringed, and practically flew down the stairs in his rush to get out of the cursed school. He needed to be away from the people, from the embarrassment, and most of all from the pitying looks people were sending him. Xander followed him, and they were soon joined by a smirking Angel.  
  
But as he reached the bottom of the steps, he resisted the urge to go straight back up them again. He had a clear view of the school parking lot, and right in his line of vision was Cordelia running to that meathead, Riley Finn. Riley climbed, or more like lumbered, out of his sleek Corvette, waving and winking at the small crowd of screaming girls that were awaiting him. Cordelia just pushed past them all and promptly starting making out with her newest boyfriend. Riley took notice of Spike intently watching them, and he sent Spike a thumbs up and a smile. Spike just shot back the bird, and turned away.  
  
"You know," Spike said to Angel and Xander, "I don't know who the hell she thinks she is." His friends shared a look as Spike vented out, enraged at his ex. "There are two thousand girls in this school and I could bang every single one of them. She's replaceable, I don't need her."  
  
"Spare me this crazy-ass shit about Cordelia Chase being replaceable. We're talking about Cordelia here." Angel replied back, chuckling.  
  
"I have to agree with him," Xander said, "He's right." Angel glanced at Xander, and then back at Spike.  
  
"Of course I'm right. That girl's an institution at our school. Every girl wants to be her, every guy wants to nail her." Angel told them, quite sure of himself. It didn't help that Xander kept nodding in agree. But Spike just shook his head, smile on his face.  
  
"No, you see, that's just the illusion she gives. That's not her at all. Strip away all the make up, the clothes, and the attitude, an' all you have is a C+ student in a Wonder Bra." Spike said assuredly, knowing that he was probably the only one not fooled by one Miss Cordelia Chase. But Angel just laughed, and Xander snickered in his hand.  
  
"Sure buddy. Maybe this breakup was harder on you then we thought." Angel said, and patted his friend on the shoulder. Spike smiled back, but just shook his head at his dumb-ass friends.  
  
"Seriously, man, given the right look, and the right boyfriend," Spike started, pointing to himself, "then any girl could be crowned the next bloody Prom Queen. I'm sure of it."  
  
Angel started laughing, but then stopped abruptly when he saw that Spike wasn't joking at all. He had a serious, clear look in his eyes. Angel just chuckled and then announced, "If you're so sure, then do you wanna make a wager on that?"  
  
Spike and Angel looked hard at each other, eyes locked. Xander looked back and forth at them, worried that something was going to happen. His two friends always competed with the other on everything, from sports to school to nailing the hottest girl.  
  
"Listen, Angel, our man here isn't in his right mind. He's emotionally shattered. It wouldn't be right that we take advantage right now, dude." Xander stated, hoping that Angel would just drop the whole thing. But then Spike turned to him and gave him a cocky smile.  
  
"Sure, why not. What are the terms?" Spike asked Angel, lighting up a cigarette. Angel just grinned at him, albeit a bit evilly.  
  
"Well, let's see. . . two months until prom, right? Gives us plenty of time. I pick a girl, any girl in this whole school, and you have two months to turn her into the Prom Queen. Simple as that." Angel outlined, and Spike took it into consideration. Then his mouth split into a smirk.  
  
"You're on, Angel."  
  
"You're gonna go down, buddy." The two gazed at each other for an intense minute, Xander caught between interfering or leaving them be. Then Angel smiled too, and started walking down the hall.  
  
"Let's go shopping," Angel said, and they started laughing.  
  
The three sauntered down the crowded hallway, Angel searching for the perfect candidate. Spike, although he looked collected, was silently hoping that this stupid bet wouldn't blow up in his face. Xander was just extremely hungry and hoping that the girl would get picked soon so he could go home and eat, then maybe call Anya over to get some 'attention'. He smiled to himself at the thought.  
  
"Hey, over there," Angel said, pointing. Spike looked and burst into laughter. The girl was pulling out a major wedge from her ass, fidgeting as her hand dug around deep inside.  
  
"Rectal archaeology, very nice," Angel said, and the three continued on.  
  
They came upon a girl, with thick bushy hair and a uni-brow. She was shuffling down the hallway in baggy pants and a ripped top. Angel didn't even say anything, just pointed, and the three started dying again.  
  
"No, I'm sure we can find better," Angel said, grinning widely.  
  
Suddenly Angel stopped, and bent over, laughing as he pointed at the newest possible Prom Queen. She had long scraggly hair, complete with puffy bangs, and a huge shiny headgear wrapped around her head. She wore huge glasses that were really thick, and that practically swallowed up her face. Her face was dotted with exploding bouts of acne, and her buckteeth poked out of her mouth as she walked past the trio. She even wore a jumper dress with bright pink leg warmers that should have been banned years ago. Spike nearly had a shit attack as he realized that this would probably be the person he would have to turn into the newest popular girl. He cringed as Angel turned to him with a mocking smile on his face.  
  
"Well, well, it looks like-" And then he suddenly stopped, his face almost lighting up as his eyes caught a particular person smile spreading over his face. Spike, dreading to look, turned around as Angel said, "And we have a winner." And when Spike saw who it was, he had the sudden urge to run home to his mommy and pretend the bet had never happened.  
  
Buffy Summers, in all her smock-wearing and paint brush toting glory, had just tripped on the stairs and now lied sprawled out amongst her strewn books and pencil crayons. It was, of course, one of the biggest geeks in school, that had a rep of being obsessed with art, and who worked at the Falafel Hut. Not necessarily ugly, but outdated and very plain, with a supposedly small rack. Who could tell underneath all the baggy clothes?  
  
Angel slapped Spike's back as Spike gave him the death glare. "You have got to be 'effin kidding me, Angel." But one look at Angel's face, and the shake of his head, Spike knew that it was no horrible joke.  
  
"Oh god," he muttered to himself, knowing that he had just lost the bet. And by Angel's smile, his friend knew it too. Spike, with one last hope, turned to a snickering Xander. He gave his friend a rare pleading look.  
  
"Please, Xan, you have got to help me."  
  
"No way man, I ain't getting involved." Xander retorted, then burst into full laughter as he took another look at Buffy, her ass crack showing as she bent over to pick up a sheaf of paper. Angel just shook his head, not feeling the least bit sorry.  
  
"Fine, I'll do it." Spike said angrily, rolling his eyes as he risked another glance at the petite blonde. He felt his heart drop.  
  
Angel smirked. "Well then you better get going. Cause on my calculations, you have two months until prom. And if Buffy Summers is going to be Queen, then it seems you have your work cut out for you." Angel laughed again, him and Xander grabbing each other's shoulders for support. Spike just sneered at them, then turned around to face his newest project. He couldn't waste any time.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he started swaggering over to Buffy. He pulled on his most endearing smile, hoping to God that some divine intervention would help him out here. Cause this would be absolutely impossible to pull off.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
*To be continued. . . 


	3. Chapter 2

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
A/n: Well here's the next chappy. I have like three stories going on now (including a sequel to "Until Forever"), so please forgive me if I don't update regularly, or I seem to have gone into hibernation for a week or two. Tee-hee (lol I am soooo gay), well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's not extremely long or anything but I hope you can get something from it. I have to admit, I wasn't even sure if I should continue this one, but my love for Freddie Prinze Jr. and James Marsters as Class Prez (yeah, that'll happen), and of course, you guys, has driven me forward.  
  
Mesh, doggies!  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
"Hello there, pet. And how might you be today?"  
  
Buffy, wide- eyed and extremely shell-shocked, turned around to the voice she was pretty sure could only belong to one person. And when she met bright, bright, startlingly blue eyes, bleached hair that was spiked, and a mega-watt smile aimed directly at her, she knew she had been right.  
  
It was the one and only, totally edible badass Class president, Spike Siler.  
  
Oh, yum was her first thought. But there was one thing strange about this picture, as reality sunk in. He was talking to her. HE was talking to HER. And he never talked to her. Not even to make fun of her crusty shoes or limp hair. . . he just basically ignored her entire existence. And then she remembered why she hated people like him, even thought she could barely think through the Spike-induced haze of her mind.  
  
So she did the only thing she could think of, and that was to make a half- disgusted, half-insane face that was sure to scare off even a vampire. His eyebrows raised but the smile still held. She felt that if he kept smiling like that sooner or later she was going to melt to the floor in a big puddle of jelly. And it wouldn't do to get slime on that black duster of his.  
  
He winked at her sister Dawn, who had been waiting for their mother beside her older sister. Dawn just grinned back, her big brown eyes taking on a dreamy quality that Buffy was alarmed at. If her sister fell for Spike then she would never hear the end of it. Buffy just sighed.  
  
"Hey, Daniella." Spike said to Dawn, the smile, though it seemed physically impossible, apparently grew huger. Dawn swooned.  
  
"Hey, Spike." Dawn answered brightly, proud at herself for keeping her voice half neutral. She gazed up into the older boys eyes, already planning their wedding. Buffy just snorted, surprised at her courage and sudden anger.  
  
"Hey, Billy, her name is Dawn," Buffy said scornfully, raising her eyes to meet his. He looked at her in surprise, their gazes catching just for an instant. It was enough to make Buffy flush. Spike mercifully rested his eyes on her sister again, this time a hint of a smirk on his face.  
  
"Sorry bout that, Dawnie." He answered, and Dawn grinned at the use of his nickname for her. She decided that she would officially change it just for him, because whatever he wanted to call her suited her just fine.  
  
"Well Buffy, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to-" Spike was rudely cut off as Buffy sent him one more scathing look before she abruptly got up from her stone bench and pulled Dawn along with her. She walked away, one hand held up in a careless goodbye wave to him. Spike watched them in shock, his face flaming as the spectators around them started tittering and whispering.  
  
He heard a loud guffaw behind him, and his eyes shut briefly before he turned around to face Angel and Xander, both who were laughing heartily at his embarrassment. He flipped them the bird, which only made them laugh even harder. His trademark scowl slid over his face.  
  
"Yeah, ha bloody ha. Laugh it up. Who cares if my whole reputation is shot because of some stupid bint, right?" He muttered, and then stalked away. Angel and Xander stopped laughing momentarily to listen to his words, than burst into some fresh laughter as they followed Spike to the parking lot.  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
"Hey, dick brain."  
  
"Hey shit face."  
  
Spike flopped down onto the couch beside his younger step- brother Connor, beer bottle in hand, who was watching an old episode of The Real World and eating out of a huge, crumbly, bag of chips. Spike scowled when he saw what was on TV, grabbing the remote from his brother's hands. His brother glared at him but was too lazy to fight for the remote. Spike angrily changed the channel, only losing the attitude when he was far away from the reality show. He sat back, Connor turning his head to give his step- brother an amused look.  
  
"What? I had to get that bloody shit off." Spike said defensively, and Connor just chuckled, popping another ship into his mouth.  
  
"So, you were dumped, huh?" Connor asked Spike placidly, and Spike glanced at him, surprised, before he just nodded and answered, "Yeah. How did you know?"  
  
Connor shrugged, rooting in the chip bag until he found a folded 'wish chip'. He grinned at his prize then reverted his attention back to his step- brother.  
  
"Well, I was at home today, skipped school. Had nothing better to do so I watched TV all day, and they played the Daytona Special like a fucking billion times. And I saw." Connor explained, lazily reaching down to scratch his crotch. Spike rolled his eyes, thoughts of Cordy back on his mind.  
  
"Well, whatever. The 'effin bitch didn't do shit for me, so it doesn't even really matter." Spike explained. Connor looked at him briefly.  
  
"Guess so. But fuck man, she was hot," Connor said, and Spike looked at him. They met gazes and smiled. "Hell yeah. And you should have seen the way she went down. Fucking Goddess of Head." Spike answered, realizing that while stupid and annoying, Cordelia did have some good uses. Conner chuckled again. "Yeah, she has that look about her."  
  
Connor tipped the empty bag into his mouth, catching the crumbs. He threw the finished bag on the floor, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "So man, who's the rebound slut?" Connor asked Spike, propping his feet on the antique coffee table, Spike following suit even though he had on muddy combat boots. Spike shrugged.  
  
"Aw, no one really. Just some bloody bet I made." Spike explained, picking up his beer bottle and downing half of it in one chug. He wiped his mouth.  
  
"Bet?" Connor asked him, his interest now riveted. Spike nodded disinterestedly. "Yeah, made a bet with Angel. I have to win." Connor was about to answer when he heard the front door slam, his mother and Spike's father walking in the door. He swore.  
  
"Fuck, I gotta go. Mom and Giles are home." Connor said, standing up, and looking under the mess of empty food packages and beer cans to find his coat. Spike watched him, smirk on his face. His little step- brother hated Spike's father. Spike didn't blame him, as Rupert was a prick with his head shoved up his ass. Even thought he and Jenny had been married for over five years, Connor still insisted on calling his step- father by his middle name. Spike settled back in the couch.  
  
"What the hell did you do now?" he asked Connor. His step- brother was always in trouble, even worse then Spike. At least Spike was somewhat smart, and went to school, even though he rebelled against everything his parents or school said. But Connor didn't give two shits about anyone, and he was constantly getting suspensions and arrested.  
  
"Nothing yet. But you know your father, once he finds out I didn't go to school today he's gonna have my fucking head. Tell them I went to Kendra's house, okay?" Connor said quickly, slipping on his jacket. Spike frowned.  
  
"Who the fuck is Kendra?"  
  
"My new girlfriend. She goes to an all girls school, so she thinks that I'm the best guy out there. Doesn't know I'm a complete asshole, and she thinks all guys deserve head all the time." Connor said, devilish smile on his face. Spike grinned back.  
  
"Good job. Get the bloody hell out of here, before Daddy dearest finds you."  
  
Connor saluted his brother and jetted out the kitchen door, Spike watching him with a grin. Even thought they were step- siblings they got along better then most sisters and brothers did. They had a mutual understanding that they wanted to make their parents lives a living hell, so it all worked out for the best between the two teenagers.  
  
Rupert Siler and his dark- haired wife, Jenny Siler, walked into the living room to find their eldest son watching TV. Spike looked up at the two, his face scowling at his father, but melting into a genuine smile when his eyes rested on Jenny. He liked his step- mother; she understood what it was to be a teen as she was one not that long ago.  
  
"Hey." Spike greeted, then turned back to the TV.  
  
"Hello, sweetie. Did you happen to see my son?" Jenny answered back, knowing by the messy floor her son had skipped school today. She wanted to warn him that he better not to it again so that her husband found out. Spike glanced at her, nodding.  
  
"Yeah, went to Kendra's house."  
  
"Who the bloody hell is Kendra?" Rupert asked, his face scrunching up. His step- son, though Rupert loved him, was honestly insane. Rupert assumed that Kendra was another of Connor's slutty girlfriends, as he did have a new one each week.  
  
"Girlfriend," Spike said automatically, eyes still trained on the TV. Rupert shrugged and then nodded, and Jenny rolled her dark eyes.  
  
"Another one," she muttered, than turned to walk out of the living room. "I'm going to go make dinner," she called out, and disappeared from view.  
  
Rupert sighed, and started going through the mail in his hand. His worn face lit up into a bright smile when he came upon a thick envelope. He held it up proudly.  
  
"Spike, you got another one. Yale this time." He said to his son, referring to another college admissions envelope. Rupert has been incredibly proud and impressed his son had gotten so many of them, from so many top quality schools. Spike had a real chance to go far in life.  
  
But as usual, Spike didn't even care about the envelope. His posture didn't change as he kept on watching the TV. "Great." He said, and then went back to ignoring his father. Rupert felt his temper start to rise, as it usually did when he and his son discussed university or college. He willed himself to calm down before another argument erupted.  
  
"William-" Rupert started. "Spike." Spike said firmly, turning slightly to glare at his father. Rupert sighed and relented. "Spike. Don't you think it's time you look upon your choices and decide what university you will be attending? Many of these admission deadlines are coming up soon-"  
  
Once again, Spike cut him off. "Listen. Dad. I already told you that I don't want to go to a bloody nancy boy university or college. I want to stay here in California and go to the local college. I've already decided."  
  
Rupert glared at his son. He just couldn't believe, or accept, that his son was willing to pass up all of these rare opportunities. It was stupid and immature, and he wasn't going to accept his son's decision.  
  
"Spike, I will not stand here and let you give up these chances. You will choose a better school or I will see to it that you go there anyways, whether on your own will, or my own. I'm serious about this; your future is at stake!"  
  
Spike growled at his father, his eyes turning hard and cold. This argument was the same one that had been going on for weeks, ever since he had gotten his first entrance request. While his father had big dreams for him, Spike wasn't sure he wanted to be in them. Right now he just wanted to go to the local school and live a laid back life.  
  
"Dad, sod off. I'm not going to go to some bloody academic school!"  
  
"Spike, you can become someone great. You're throwing away all of your bloody chances, and I won't let you-"  
  
Spike stalked forward, his jaw tensed. "I won't go to the school you want me to. I don't want to be some soddin' engineer or doctor. And if you can't accept that, then we're done here."  
  
Spike gave his father one last steely look before he sauntered out of the room, his heavy boots clunking on the floor. Rupert looked to the heavens for help, muttering under his breath. His son was incredibly hardheaded and stubborn, but he wasn't going to let Spike win this one. Rupert sighed. He couldn't let a brilliant boy like his son throw away his chances. Rupert had done that too, and it almost ruined his life.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
"So you walked away from him? The hottie class president?"  
  
"Um . . . maybe, I possibly could have . . ."  
  
"Buffy! Oh my god next time I see you I'm gonna kill you!"  
  
Buffy paced her kitchen length, toiling the phone cord around her finger as she talked to her best friend, Willow. She needed to tell her about the whole weird thing that had happened this afternoon. Something that she still didn't understand several hours later, after a two-hour reflection in which she had been running what he had said to her over and over in her mind.  
  
And still she couldn't understand why he would talk to her.  
  
"But Willow, you can't blame me. Suddenly he comes up to me, and starts talking to me, even though he never has before. It was just a little bit odd!" Buffy exclaimed shrilly. She quited and then said, "Well, hopefully if he had anything important to say then he'll try to talk to me again. Right?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. If he doesn't, you are officially dead."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Wills. Whatever. Hey, are you going to come to my art show tomorrow? The gallery is going to display my paintings with some other amateur artists. It's not going to be too fancy, but I think you might like it." Buffy explained, and she waited for Willow to answer a bit anxiously. This was the first time her art would be shown publicly, and it was incredibly nerve-racking.  
  
"Of course, Buff. I'll be there, 7: 00 sharp, I promise."  
  
"Good." Buffy smiled happily, then looked at the time. She sighed. "Sorry Wills, but I have to go. I still got a mountain of undone homework, and it's not getting any smaller as I talk here."  
  
Willow chuckled, and said, "Bye Buff."  
  
"Bye Wills."  
  
Buffy clicked the cordless phone shut, and leaned against the counter. She just couldn't get a certain blonde guy out of her head. She always swore to herself she would never fall for one of 'them'. The popular kids. It could only end in heart break on her part.  
  
She sighed again. It was such a shame, really. Spike *really* was hot. Too bad he was a bastard prick along with his unusual good looks. They always are. They know it and they flaunt it.  
  
Buffy sighed once more before she walked out of the kitchen, turning off the light. The room was shrouded in darkness, the streetlights casting shadows on the walls.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
*To be continued . . . 


	4. Chapter 3

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
A/n: Here's the next part. I'm stuck in a complete and total writer's block, and on top of that I'm so goddamn busy it's a wonder I haven't croaked, so don't get your panties in a twist when you read this chappy and it's total garbage, or at least boring . . . :) ok? Great. And by the way, reviews would *really* makes things all better. . .  
  
Special note: Yes, this actually has a point. I just wanted to bring attention to something that has been, well, really bugging me lately. I obviously appreciate any reviews that you readers leave me, (actually I utterly adore them), but it really doesn't make me write faster when you leave like 5 reviews demanding that I better write more because you've been waiting. Please. As if that would make me, queen of rebellion and stubbornness, write faster. Just not happening. So just relax and remember people have commanding lives that don't always let them write new chappies ever single day. Okay? Good. :) That's all I wanted to rant about this week.  
  
Ta-da!  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
"That would be three falafel balls with extra side order of sauce, along with two orders of our special home-made potato wedges. And would you like to super size that, sir?"  
  
"Hmm. . . I think I need further time to decide on such an important decision, if you may."  
  
"Of course sir, take all the time you need."  
  
Buffy sighed as she adjusted her Falafel Hut hat, a large monstrosity that had a huge falafel floating on the top of it. In all, not incredibly attractive or even humane, but she still had to wear it along with her yellow-and-orange striped shirt, and bright blue pants. She began to get agitated as the hat slipped down over her face, obscuring her view. She impatiently pushed it back up again.  
  
The man in front of her contemplated his decision in silence, sighing every once in a while. God. It wasn't like this was a life or death situation. Willow, who was seated at a stool by the counter, saw the exasperation on Buffy's face and she chuckled as she popped a carrot in her mouth. Finally, just as the man was about to finally answer, his mouth opening to respond, the stores door chimes jingled, signaling the entrance of another customer. Buffy saw the moment in slow motion, as she saw the 'customer' was none other than Spike Siler, in all his bleached hair glory. He walked in, leather duster just short of flaring behind him, and he seemed to pause as all eyes rested on him. He threw a cocky smirk just as a beam of sunlight shone across his face, illuminating those sharp cheekbones and highlighting his deep blue eyes-  
  
Buffy gulped. She got a little carried away there. But the fact was, Spike was walking up to her now, flashing a little grin that made her stomach do weird flip flops. Most absurd.  
  
"What do you want?" Buffy hissed to him, as he reached the counter and plopped down on a stool beside Willow. He just smirked at her, turning to flash Willow a small wave. She meekly smiled back, swallowing a chunk of carrot roughly. She then directed wide eyes at Buffy, who was trying to compose herself.  
  
"Nothin'," Spike answered, in a tone that said anything but nothing.  
  
"I will have you know-"  
  
"Miss!"  
  
Buffy was cut off by the nasally voice of the man she was serving. He was giving her a disapproving look, as if she was supposed to feel ashamed she had been speaking to anyone else that wasn't him at the moment. She took a calming breath, and then said as sweetly as she could muster without puking, "Excuse me, sir. One second." She forced on a smile.  
  
Buffy stalked around the counter separating the kitchen and the eating area, so that she was facing a smirking Spike. The man looked at her in impatience, whining, still standing at the cashier.  
  
"Miss, I'm ready to order now!"  
  
"One moment, sir."  
  
"But-"  
  
"I said, one moment, Grandpa."  
  
The older man abruptly shut up and turned so that he faced the front again. Buffy smiled tightly, grabbing Spike around the black collar of his duster and pulling him up from the stool. She gathered up whatever balls she had as she led him over to a corner, letting go as she stopped to face him. He followed along without comment, his scruffy boots clunking along the floor.  
  
"What, luv? Can't a bloke get an innocent bite to eat nowadays?" Spike said in fake innocence, eyes open wide. Buffy scowled at him, as Willow watched the whole affair in extreme interest.  
  
"Firstly, don't use the words 'luv' or 'bloke'. That's not proper American speech, buddy . . . it's some weird English slang and it freaks me out. Secondly, stalking is illegal in all fifty states." She punctuated her words with a hard poke to his chest. Idly she noticed that his chest was pretty hard.  
  
"Stalking?" Spike snorted. "Who said anything about stalking you?"  
  
Buffy looked at him incredulously. "Oh, so you just had the insane craving to go for a falafel ball, but only the ones in the place you knew I worked at. Right."  
  
Spike shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He raised one eyebrow that Buffy noticed had a long scar running through it. A sexy, cool scar that seemed to enhance his gorgeousness. Buffy inwardly cringed. A bad, bad, ugly scar that made his face look deformed. That was better.  
  
"So maybe I do have ulterior motives then. Sue me. Can't blame a guy for just trying to . . . uh . . ." Spike stuttered in trying to fabricate an excuse for following her around. He couldn't exactly tell her that he had five weeks to make her socially acceptable, and the Prom Queen. He looked around the store for some help, and landed on her tie-died shirt under her half-buttoned uniform shirt.  
  
"Art. I wanted to ask you if you could help me in art, and all that rot."  
  
Buffy arched an eyebrow. "Art?"  
  
"Yeah, art. What, you saying a person like me can't be into art?" Spike shot back defensively. "Just because I happen to be unusually handsome and into soccer doesn't mean that I can't do art." (A/n: Sorry, I have a little fetish with soccer players. Just imagine Spike as a soccer player. . . all sweaty and intense. . . oh yeah. Um, I'll just go now. Continue on with the reading.)  
  
Buffy stifled an amused chuckle. "No, no, of course I would never say that. It's just I've never seen you in any of my classes, so I was unaware you had such a vested interest in visual arts." Buffy said sarcastically.  
  
"Well, I do."  
  
"Okay, whatever you say." Buffy just shrugged, and Spike fidgeted in his spot. It was almost funny to see a leather-clad Billy Idol look a like in the middle of a brightly lit Falafel Hut, nervous look branding his usually cocky face. Would be, if Spike wasn't asking Buffy to help him in art. She knew that it had to be some sort of scheme or plan to humiliate her in the end. It always was with these things.  
  
But then her well-meaning friend had to interrupt, breaking Buffy's concentration on thinking up an excuse to turn Spike away.  
  
"Well," Willow started from her stool, "she can begin helping you if you went to one of her art shows. There's one tonight at Revello Gallery, which her mom owns. You can totally have my ticket," Willow said, smiling at Spike, ignoring the death glare Buffy was shooting her.  
  
Spike smiled gratefully at the red head, moving forward to take the little slip of paper from Willow's outstretched hand. "Thanks, Red." Willow beamed at the nickname. He pocketed it, and turned back to Buffy who was sullenly standing with her arms crossed. Spike chuckled.  
  
"I guess I'll see you tonight then, right sweets?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Buffy muttered, stalking past him to move back around the counter to the man that was still waiting there. Spike ambled toward the door, hands in his pockets. He turned back at the last minute, hand on the glass door as he got ready to head out.  
  
"Hey, you maybe wanna grab some dinner or something-"  
  
"No. Bye."  
  
"Okay. Bye then." Spike waved goodbye, wicked grin on his face. Buffy only allowed herself to smile when he was gone. Willow caught the smile, and she shared an amused look, until Buffy caught the look and scowled deeply.  
  
"I'll deal with you later, girl." Buffy warned, and Willow sheepishly ducked her head. Buffy sighed deeply and then finally turned back to the man, hand poised over the cash and cheery smile plastered on her face.  
  
"So, sir, what will it be?"  
  
"Super size my balls." He said clearly, and Buffy faltered, her eyes widening as she looked at him. His face remained neutral.  
  
"Um . . . oh. Oh." She said, recognition washing over her. She made a little squeaking noise in the back of her throat and started punching in the numbers.  
  
"Of course. That will be $6.15."  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+  
  
Spike sighed as he sauntered into the art gallery, amid clumps of stuffy looking people that were old and wrinkly. He seemed out of place among the suits and dresses, he himself adorned in dress pants and a dress shirt; but the dress shirt was opened to reveal a black t-shirt underneath, and he had on his favorite duster overtop. He scowled as an old man sniffed at his attire, giving Spike a chastising look.  
  
Spike growled at him, or did something that quite closely resembled a growl, and the old man faltered, and quickly turned away and walked fast in the opposite direction. Spike chuckled to himself, strolling down a dark hallway as he followed a sign proclaiming, "The Artistic Works of Buffy Summers".  
  
Maybe there was some fun to be had, after all.  
  
He entered a brightly lit room, filled with beautiful paintings of various themes. Spike had never been one for art, but he could recognize immense skill in the paintings and sketches. He was a bit blown away when he remembered that this was Buffy's art, the geeky girl who now was a top priority in his life. Feeling strangely insignificant amid all the beauty, he ambled over to the snack table. Grabbing a platter of cheese to himself, oblivious to all the distasteful glances, he went up to a particular painting that seemed to call out to him.  
  
Munching on a piece of cheese (probably cheddar), he studied the curving lines and intense color. It seemed to scream pain and loneliness, though Spike couldn't understand why. Still, in all its morbid and dark glory, it was deeply affecting and beautiful.  
  
"So you came," a voice said behind him. Spike, startled, started choking on his cheese, almost dropping the cheese plate in the process. He coughed hoarsely a few times and spun around to meet the voice.  
  
It was an amused Buffy, looking like she was surprised that he had taken time out of his schedule to show up. Thinking about it, Buffy realized that she was.  
  
"Hey," Spike managed to get out, before breaking into another coughing fit. Buffy just stood there, rolling her eyes and grabbing a piece of Gouda from the platter in his hand while he recovered. Finally he stopped coughing.  
  
"You okay?" Buffy asked him, cheese waving in the air with her hand movements, slight concern etched on her face. He scoffed, brushing it off.  
  
"Course," he said off-handedly. Buffy gave him a look, then pointed to something on his mouth. "You have some spit on your mouth, there."  
  
"Oh . . . thanks, luv." Spike frowned and wiped at his mouth with his hand.  
  
"Good work," Spike said when he turned back around. He motioned at the painting. "I love all of the darkness, the sadness . . . " Spike seemed to get lost in the painting, to the surprise of Buffy. She watched him in fascination as he gazed at the work, in his own world for at least a few minutes. Finally he snapped out of his trance, ducking his head sheepishly.  
  
"Um, yeah. It's a really good painting, it is," he said softly, eyes straying back to it before he looked at her. Buffy took a deep breath, hoping she didn't melt into a puddle right then and there. She was hoping that all of his depth and understanding of her work was really just a ploy. If it wasn't, then this guy had to be absolutely perfect, and she couldn't fathom that fact. No one as cute and charming as Spike, could know art, and feel it as deeply as he seemed to.  
  
"Thanks," she replied, looking at her painting as she came to stand beside him. "I wanted to show depression and . . . and the pain of utter isolation even when you're surrounded by hundreds of people. You're all alone, because no one understands who you truly are . . ." Buffy trailed off.  
  
Spike looked at her in surprise. He had felt that way many times before, almost always when he was with his friends, or when he had been with Cordy. Strange she had felt it too. Well, maybe not so strange cause she is a geek 'n all, but I still get where she's comin' from.  
  
"I understand it," Spike answered, even though she had asked no question. Buffy had an ironic little smile on her face as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Yeah. I know." They stood in silence for awhile, the only noise was of chewing and breathing. Spike felt strangely content, just being, and not having to impress anybody or live up to their expectations. It was nice.  
  
Buffy shifted abruptly, looking at the gathering people around her. "Well, I have a little speech thing to do, so I'm going to go now. I'll see you after, if you decide to stick around." Buffy said, gesturing to the viewers. Spike nodded. "Of course. Go ahead luv. Knock 'em dead, an all." Spike said, smirking, and Buffy rolled her eyes but turned away with a smile. She walked to the front of the room, to a little stage, and she called for everyone's attention.  
  
Spike tuned out as she started talking about her experience in painting, and he looked around the room at the different paintings. He shoved another piece of cheese in his mouth while he studied each one. All communicated unspoken volumes, speaking to him directly. Hmm. Funny how a girl he had nothing in common with could understand so much about his own feelings.  
  
Funnier still how he genuinely cared.  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+  
  
Buffy felt happy, content even, as she helped her mother clean up the gallery after everybody left. Well, everyone except for Spike, who was waiting outside for her so he could drive her home. Buffy hid her smile as she tossed some food wrappers in a nearby garbage. For some inexplicable reason, she was really, really glad Spike decided to stick around to wait. Even though she didn't care at all, whatsoever.  
  
Mmmhmm. I'm sure you don't care. Have you *checked* out his pecs lately? Shut up, BadBrain. Oh, touchy. At least you realize he's a major catch. Maybe he is.  
  
Buffy felt incredibly stupid as she internally debated Spike. Glad that no one was around except her mother for the moment, she hurriedly finished her task to keep her mind off things.  
  
Finally she and her mother were done, the room spotless. Her mother sighed as she flipped curly blonde hair out of her eyes, glancing at Buffy as she did so with a motherly smile on her face, eyes crinkling.  
  
"You did a great job tonight, Buffy. I'm so proud of you."  
  
"I know mom." Buffy smiled at her mother, desperately hoping she wouldn't get all teary and sentimental. It was an art show for god sakes. "Glad you liked it. I think everyone else did too."  
  
Just as the mist started to overtake her mother's eyes, Buffy quickly interrupted. If her mother started this now, she wouldn't be able to meet Spike for another hour, at least. "Well mom, thanks so much for helping me clean up and everything. But I'm really tired, so I'm just going to go now."  
  
Her mother sniffled and brushed away an errant tear, smiling brightly at her oldest daughter. "Of course sweetie, you go right ahead. You've had a long day and you should get some rest for school tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah mom. I will. Bye." Buffy said, pulling on her gray coat over her splatter painted smock-and pants ensemble. It was one of her own creations. Just as Buffy was about to walk out the door, her mother called to her.  
  
"How are you going to get home?"  
  
Buffy spun around, smile plastered on her face. She didn't want to lie about Spike, but her mother would get all gushy and giggly, and would insist to meet Spike even though he and Buffy weren't even going out. Basically she would embarrass Buffy horribly, and Spike would never want to see her again.  
  
"Well," Buffy started, pulling on a sweet and open face, "Willow's uncle is picking us up, and he said he would drop me off at home."  
  
Her mother frowned, her forehead creasing in thought. "Willow? I didn't even see Willow here tonight."  
  
Shit.  
  
"Well," Buffy started, trying to think quickly, "she did come, but she came later, after the show started. But then she felt a little sick and went to go wait in the lobby, just in case, she, you know," Buffy finished, gesturing in a puking motion. Joyce bought it.  
  
"Aw, poor dear. I hope she's all right then. You make sure you tell her I said hi then, alright? I'm just going to stay an extra hour to go over some financial work."  
  
"Yeah mom, of course. Bye!" Buffy breezed out the door, relieved.  
  
"Bye, honey."  
  
Buffy walked briskly through the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps echoing off the ceramic tile. A smile slid over her face before she even realized what had happened. Though she had no reason to be, she almost felt nervous about being alone with Spike. He was one of 'them', yes, but he could be so nice at times, and he had really surprised her tonight.  
  
"Maybe he's different," Buffy whispered to herself.  
  
But when she stepped outside into the cool night, her smile dropped and all of her doubts about Spike were affirmed. She stopped in the doorway, feeling a fleeting instant of regret and hurt before she remembered she didn't care about Spike anyways.  
  
He was leaning against his black convertible, huge smile gracing his features as his eyes sparkled in the night. In front of him, closer then she had any right to be, was a pretty girl with dark raven hair and pale skin. She was extremely thin and frail, but she had an almost ethereal beauty to her. Spike was shamelessly flirting, touching her arm and using his megawatt smile to his advantage. She seemed to be responding well, if the fact she kept licking her red lips and moving closer to him were any indication.  
  
Buffy snorted in disgust, angry at him for being such a bastard, even though he was single and had every right to be flirting; mad at this girl for intruding and taking Spike away from Buffy, even though he wasn't hers anyways; but most of all, Buffy was mad at herself for expecting him to be different, and for caring so much that he was talking to another girl while he was waiting for her.  
  
Extremely confused, Buffy stepped off the door ledge and started walking down the other way of the street, looking for a taxi to hail. She checked her black bag to make sure she had enough money to get home; thankfully, she was covered.  
  
Spike seemed to notice her a couple of minutes later, standing at the edge of the street with one arm waving in the air. He quickly apologized to Drusilla, telling her he would be right back. She pouted but said she could wait. At her words Spike took off, jogging up to Buffy just as a cab rolled up beside them. He grabbed her arm just as she opened the yellow door.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped at him, her eyes swirling with emotions he couldn't recognize. He looked at her confused.  
  
"I though I was driving you home, luv," he said slowly, as if maybe he had misunderstood and she wasn't going home with him, after all. Buffy just rolled her eyes, hand still on the open door.  
  
"No, Spike, you're not. Just go back to your new friend, and I'll find my own way home. Okay?" Buffy said tensely, preparing to get into the taxi. He was confused about her reaction, but decided to let it go.  
  
"Okay," he said, backing off, still frowning. This seemed to enrage her further, and she scowled at him before flopping down into the car seat and slamming the door behind her. He watched the taxi zoom off, still confused. He stood there for a couple of seconds before turning and starting to walk back to his car.  
  
It was when he caught sight of Drusilla, fidgeting impatiently, that it suddenly hit him why Buffy seemed so mad. But it wasn't like that all. Drusilla was just a good friend of his, and she had happened to walk by just now . . . and he would never imagine dating her. So why would Buffy get so mad? Spike couldn't see why Buffy would even care at all; it wasn't like she had any feelings for him. She probably hated him.  
  
But what really got him was that he seemed to feel bad she had gotten angry, and guilty. He had no reason to feel guilty because he had done nothing wrong, and he shouldn't have even cared about Buffy's feelings. She was just a project. A stupid bet. Nothing more. Spike sighed loudly, deciding that it didn't matter anymore because Buffy had already gone home anyways.  
  
He reached Drusilla, and smiled at her. "Sorry, Dru."  
  
"That's okay, Spike. So tell me more about Connor and his latest girlfriend," Drusilla requested, giggling at his younger sex-crazed brother. Spike grinned, trying to forget about Buffy and the hurt on her face.  
  
As he leaned back against his care, and telling Drusilla about Connor, he realized that her pained face was still burned on his memory. He just couldn't understand why.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
  
  
*To be continued . . . 


	5. Chapter 4

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
A/n: Yay, another chappy. As always, thanks for all the reviews. Even though I won't sit here and pretend reviews make me write faster (once lazy, always lazy), I will admit that they make my day, and certainly lets me know what you guys want. After all, it's really only about you guys, isn't it? I know that this story isn't an NC-17 rating, but since I have a dirty mind and I love Spuffy smut, I will be writing a chapter soon that will contain sex in it; but I will only send that chapter to Spuffy Archives, where you can read it. For ff.net, the chapter will only be a very mild R.  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
"Love isn't brains, people, it's blood." -Spike, Season 3  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
"But did he actually kiss her?"  
  
"No, but-''  
  
"So then no actual physical contact besides her hand?"  
  
"Um, I guess not-''  
  
"That's what I thought. You have no idea who she is; for all you know she could be his freakin' sister."  
  
"Wills!"  
  
"No, you're crazy. This guy is hot; more then hot, he's gorgeous. He's nice, funny, he's got a killer smile, and he seems to like you. What's so hard to understand about that?"  
  
Buffy sighed, leaning against her countertop as she talked to Willow on her phone. She had been telling her about last night, and the little skank that had been practically devouring Spike with her eyes. But Willow was, for once in her life, completely disagreeing with Buffy.  
  
"I don't know Wills. He's just so . . . so different then me. I mean, look at his last girlfriend, than look at me. I see a slightly huge difference there."  
  
Buffy sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip. She just didn't know anymore. If Spike was actually after her, just because of the fact that he liked her, it was almost worse. She had no experience with guys; and Spike was sure to be experienced. She couldn't keep up with him and his friends.  
  
"Buffy, believe me, you're beautiful."  
  
Ding Dong!  
  
"Shit Wills, the door. I'll call you back later, okay?"  
  
"Of course. Bye."  
  
Buffy hung up the phone and raced to the door. Her sister had beaten her to it though, and was currently gazing at the person on the other side of the half-opened door with the utmost rapture and love. Her mouth had dropped open, her blue eyes wide. Buffy frowned. Who the hell could be able to shut her sister up for that amount of time without even speaking to her?  
  
As she pulled open the door the rest of the way, she got her answer. Spike Siler and his killer smile, that's who. He was smiling at the sisters, dressed in dark blue swimming trunks and a red shirt that wasn't buttoned. Buffy's eyes voluntarily dropped to the smooth cuts of his light chest, down the ribbed goodness of his stomach, and further down to muscular legs that eventually led to sandaled feet.  
  
"Oh god," Buffy squeaked out, before her face flushed and she retracted quickly. "Uh, I meant, hey Spike. What brings you here?"  
  
Spike smirked, but didn't comment on her reaction. He knew he was a handsome fellow, but he wasn't going to flaunt it. He smiled at Buffy's cute little sister, than changed his gaze to Buffy herself. "Hey there, girls." Buffy's sister suddenly erupted into small giggles as she checked him out, not bothering to be subtle.  
  
"Nice . . . trunks, Spike." Dawn said wickedly, and Buffy rolled her eyes at the expression on her sister's face. She looked like one of those hungry lions on the Discovery Channel, watching the antelope and getting ready to pounce. She was only thirteen for god sakes.  
  
"Dawn, don't you have somewhere to be?'' Buffy said, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms. She raised an eyebrow. Spike just looked on in amusement, watching the exchange with a smirk.  
  
Dawn, ever the annoying little brat, shook her head. "Nope." She went back to ogling Spike's . . . chest. Of course, his chest.  
  
"Yes, you do."  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"Dawn, you do!"  
  
"No, I don't!"  
  
"Well, maybe then I should just let Mom know about the toilet paper incident. She wouldn't like it very much if she knew that you-''  
  
Dawn's eyes grew wide, and she put on a big fake smile. "Oh yeah, I have that thing. You know, the thing with that other thing. I better go right now to do that thing. Bye Spike."  
  
Dawn took one more appreciative glance at Spike, eyes flickering to a very inappropriate spot for a thirteen year old, than scowled at a smirking Buffy. She stomped down the hallway, going to her room and shutting the door behind her. Buffy turned back to Spike.  
  
"You never answered my question," she told him lightly. He frowned.  
  
"And what was that, pet?"  
  
"Why are you here, Spike?" Buffy asked him, arms still crossed. He gave her his best smile, and gestured to his crotch. Buffy's mouth went dry and her eyes bulged. She stood up straight quickly, ready to slap him if necessary.  
  
  
  
"What?!" she practically yelled. He frowned again, blue eyes confused.  
  
"Relax, luv. I just meant that I came here to ask you to the beach. That's why I'm in my swimming trunks." Spike explained carefully, stepping back at the look on her face. Buffy's eyebrows raised and she ducked her head sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, of course," she mumbled, and Spike shot her a confused look.  
  
"Well," she said quickly, trying to change the subject. "I can't go with you. My, uh, house is very dirty and in need of cleaning right away." Buffy paused, stepping back into her house. "So, goodbye."  
  
She was about to close the door, but Spike held it open with his hand. His blue eyes furtively swept her house from over her shoulder. It was practically sparkling, it was so spotless. He then looked down at her, arching a scarred brow.  
  
"Dirty, eh?"  
  
Buffy was entranced with the shade of blue his eyes were. She swallowed hard, dropping her gaze to the floor: safer territory. She nodded.  
  
"Yep, incredibly dirty. Dirtiest it's ever been. In fact, it's unlivable."  
  
"Well okay." Spike sighed. He ran a hand through unruly platinum hair. Buffy held back a sigh of relief; he was leaving. She didn't know if she should really be spending any more time with Spike, and at least for now she had gotten out of it. But then Spike grinned, and she waited apprehensively for what he was going to say.  
  
"If it's so dirty, then I'll help." Spike moved to step in the doorway. Buffy fumbled with a reply that would make him leave.  
  
"Uh, no. Sorry, my mother only likes me cleaning the house, so it looks like your going to have to go now. See you." Buffy waved at him enthusiastically but he didn't seem to be getting the message. He rolled his eyes, realizing what game she was playing long before she herself realized that he knew.  
  
"Well then I'll just go play Barbie's or some such rot with your little sis. I'd think she'd appreciate the older guidance, since you two don't seem to get along to well." Spike said innocently.  
  
Buffy ground her teeth, and scowled at him. She pushed up her glasses sulkily and whirled around. "I'll get my suit."  
  
+!+!+!+!+  
  
"The water's beautiful, innit?"  
  
"Yeah," Buffy sighed, walking alongside Spike. She gazed up at the bright blue sky, clear and gorgeous. The sun was high, the weather hot. Beside her, on one side, was the brown dusty sand of the beach, spotted with blankets and colorful umbrellas. On the other side, the crisp blue green of the ocean, lapping gently at her bare feet as they trudged along the coast. She, for once in her life, was almost perfectly content.  
  
She adjusted the strap of her jean overalls, as Spike leaned down to grab a small stone that was embedded in the wet sand. He chucked it far across the surface of the water, and it skipped a couple of times. Smile on his face, he turned back to her.  
  
"Used to always do that when I was a kid," he chuckled, memories of past times flitting through his mind. Buffy smiled at him, realizing that he wasn't that bad. He wasn't really bad at all. It was just when he was around his friends he turned snide and arrogant, and criticized those who weren't as popular as he was.  
  
"So, luv, tell me 'bout yourself." Spike asked her, putting his hands in his shirt pockets. He turned his face up to the sun, while she pondered this question. Finally she answered thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, what do you want to know?"  
  
Spike pretended to think hard about this. He grinned, and said, "Everything! All your deep, dark secrets that your mother doesn't even know."  
  
Buffy laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "You are such a loser, you know that?" Spike shrugged his shoulders, smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah I know." Buffy smiled again, marveling at how comfortable they were with each other. It was if they had known each other for years.  
  
"I did-"  
  
As Buffy opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a loud yell. "Hey, Siler! Get your white ass over here!"  
  
Buffy frowned, looking around to place the voice. Spike had already found the source, and was staring grimly at the beach parking lot. He was having a good time with Buffy, and he didn't want someone else to intrude on his time with her. As soon as he had the though, he recoiled, thinking that he just had caught a case of temporary insanity. He loved his friends like brothers, and of course he wanted to see them. Buffy was just a bet.  
  
"It's Angel and the rest of the gang," Spike told Buffy, pointing to the group unloading baskets and blankets. She watched them, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She really, really, didn't want to spend an afternoon with them. For some reason, she knew she wouldn't survive.  
  
"Hail, hail, the gangs all here," Buffy muttered. But she didn't say anything more, as Spike walked them over to the edge of the sand. Spike ran a hand through his hair, trying to mentally figure out ways to minimize Buffy-embarrassment. He hoped, for once in his life, that his friends could actually behave themselves. Thank god Cordelia seemed to be too busy, probably further occupied with Riley, to come.  
  
"If we're gonna be friends, pet, we have to deal with them sometime," he whispered in her ear softly. She looked up at him, sharing an understanding between them, and she just nodded.  
  
"I called you house, and your mom said you were here. So we decided to crash the party," Angel grinned, greeting Spike with a slap on the back. Spike smiled back, doing the same to Angel.  
  
Spike helped Angel and Xander unpack volleyball nets, while Buffy went off with Faith and Anya. Spike watched her protectively, until she settled into the sand beside the two other girls. As Faith and Anya unpacked sunglasses and sunscreen, Buffy dropped her black tote, along with her jean overalls. Spike's mouth went a little dry at the sight of the small, tanned girl in the little black swimsuit. It was nothing sexy or revealing, but it cut to her curves just right.  
  
"Well, well," Angel said in surprise at the sight, catching where Spike's gaze was and following it. He laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Look at the tits on Superfreak. So she does have an actual rack after all."  
  
Spike clenched his jaw, feeling the large need to beat the shit out of Angel, but he somehow restrained himself, and kept quiet. He continued to unload the back of the Jeep in silence.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy watched the other girls warily as they undid their bright sarongs, revealing gorgeous bodies Buffy could only dream of having, scantily clad in skimpy bikinis. She lay in the golden sand beside them, in her black bathing suit. As they slathered on lotion, she basked in the warm glow, wishing that she and Spike could have had the day alone.  
  
The two chatted amongst themselves, about some guy named Riley, and about other trivial things, like the fact Faith's favorite Manicure parlor was shut down for repairs. Buffy rolled her eyes, as she heard Faith complaining that her nails couldn't have anything less then the best. She honestly wondered how Spike could have gone out with one of these girls, so shallow and vapid. He didn't seem that type of guy.  
  
Buffy was interrupted out of her thoughts when Faith stated wryly, "Do you think Spike's mourning period is over?"  
  
Buffy's forehead crinkled as she tried to decipher what that meant. Spike was in front of the three girls, along with some other guys, including Angel and Xander. He had his top off, displaying that muscled back and chest to the whole beach. Faith licked her lips in a predatory fashion, and Anya raised her dark sunglasses to fully enjoy the view.  
  
"Oh yeah, definitely over," Anya practically panted. Buffy watched uneasily as their eyes raked over Spike. She decided to distract them a little bit, though she couldn't fathom why she would want to do that.  
  
"Uh, mourning period?" Buffy asked, and both girls turned their gazes on her. Anya seemed mean and bitchy, but Faith's eyes seemed a little bit warmer. Faith chuckled and said, "Yeah, mourning period. He just broke up with Cordelia Chase, and they were going out for a long time. But we think he's perfectly recovered from his loss, and ready to move on."  
  
Faith said this in a way that made Buffy think Cordelia wouldn't be too happy finding her friends lusting after her ex-boyfriend. But she wisely kept silent. "Oh," was all she said, nodding in comprehension.  
  
Anya suddenly chuckled, turning her sharp gaze back on Buffy, twisted smile on her lips. "But don't tell me that you and Spike are dating, Bunny." Her mocking tone made Buffy feel like shit. Her anger at this girl was the only thing keeping her from saying nothing and retreating all together.  
  
"It's Buffy," she answered icily, to the surprise of Anya, "and no, me and Spike are not seeing each other." She then glared at Anya once more before lying back on her dark blanket. Anya's mouth remained slightly open. Faith, her eyes covered by the dark lenses so it was impossible to tell where she was looking, flicked her gaze over to the blonde girl in grudging respect. She had balls, that was for sure.  
  
The girls remained silent for awhile, baking contentedly in the sun, until Xander bounded over. He looked at the three with a grin, spinning a volley ball in his hand. He held it out, saying, "Anyone care for a game of volleyball, ladies?"  
  
Lazily, Anya smirked and said, "Uh, no thanks." Buffy shook her head, smile on her face, and Faith said nothing, seemingly sleeping.  
  
Xander scoffed at them, dark eyes shining. "Aw, come on. What exactly are you guys going to do today, then?"  
  
Anya sighed, and said, "In ten minutes, I fully intend on turning over."  
  
Xander rolled his eyes, and offered hopefully one last time, "Are you guys sure? It'll be fun." Anya glared at him, shaking her head. She really just wanted to get back to peace. Talking interrupted her tanning process greatly.  
  
Buffy thought for a moment, then stood up. "I'll play," she announced. Xander grinned at her, nodding approvingly. "Excellent. Faith?" But no one answered him, as Anya interrupted rudely, staring down Buffy.  
  
"She can't play," Anya said, as though Buffy wasn't even there. Xander lifted his dark eyebrows, sensing a good catfight. He absolutely adored catfights, and watched eagerly, waiting.  
  
"And why not, Anya?" Buffy asked, hands on her hips. Anya just smiled in amusement, having not moved an inch from her lounging position. "Because, have you ever seen yourself in gym?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, fist clenching. Even though she didn't believe in fighting, there was something to be said for shutting dump people like Anya up. Especially with a nice roundhouse kick. "Listen Anya, mind your own damn business. I'm playing, and no one said you had too. Just shut up and make sure your tan lines are perfect."  
  
And with that, Buffy stomped off, to the group around the volleyball nets that included Spike. Xander watched after her in disbelief; almost no one, save for Cordelia, could ever tell Anya off without reciprocating violence from Anya. He quickly followed after Buffy, wanting to ask her on her method. He could use a few pointers himself.  
  
Anya watched the retreating girl with silent fury. "Fucking bitch," she muttered to herself. Faith raised her eyebrows, liking this new girl more and more by the minute. She stood up, and brushed sand of herself. Faith slid off her sunglasses, throwing them on her lounge chair. She turned to Anya, smile twitching on her lips.  
  
"I'm gonna go play too," Faith said, and Anya frowned as Faith walked off also, wallowing in her slowly fading anger.  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
*TBC . . . 


	6. Chapter 5

+Prom Queen+  
  
Summary: A/U, based on the movie "She's All That". Buffy Summers is turned from geek to chic (I always wanted to say that) when the popular class president, William 'Spike' Siler, makes a bet with his friends. But soon he begins to fall in love, and so does she; what will Buffy say when she finds out he's a liar?  
  
A/n: Thanks ever so much to the reviewers. You truly are gems. Muah! And, I have to say this, but for all you flamers, you can go suck eggs. Honestly, some people have nothing better to do then diss other people's writing. Please. If the summary sounded so dumb, why did you read the story? That's what I thought. I'm not a mean person, but any flames sent to me will be merrily used to burn your houses down, flamers. Okay? :) On a friendlier note, please enjoy this chappy!  
  
And by the way, don't worry. Those smutty parts will be rearing their pretty 'lil heads quite soon.  
  
  
  
+!+!+!+!+  
  
The volleyball game went without too much incident, Buffy had to admit. Even though she had barely touched the ball, other then to pick it up from the sand where she had missed it and it dropped beside her, it was a fun game. It was well worth the fact she had absolutely no physical co- ordination just to see Spike jump around only in a pair of swim trunks, and the time when the ball had beaned Anya right in the head as she was chatting up a hottie, sitting safely on the sidelines. Anya had turned bright red, and to add insult to injury, she broke her favorite sunglasses from the impact of the ball. Buffy had died of laughter, and even Faith grinned at the look on her friends face when she picked up the broken pieces of the black lens.  
  
"It wasn't too bad," Buffy whispered to herself.  
  
She walked along the edge of the beach with Spike, as everyone made their way to the parking lot as the night closed in. Loaded down with bags and umbrellas, everyone was easily chattering with one another. Faith had surprisingly warmed up to Buffy today, and was now walking amicably beside her, even though Anya had given Buffy a scathing look, refusing to walk near her. Anya seemed to be pissed off from that whole collapsing- on-the- sand-from-laughter thing before. Ah well.  
  
"Did you have fun?" Spike asked Buffy over the pile of blankets he was holding in his hand. He had an easy smile on his face, and he looked more relaxed then Buffy had ever seen him. She smiled at him shyly.  
  
"Yeah. A lot. Thanks for coming to get me today." She answered back, a light blush that Spike found adorable creeping over her cheeks. He shrugged casually, his smile growing bigger.  
  
"My pleasure," he said, and seemed about to say something else. Just then Angel came up behind him, slapping his friend on the back and wrapping and arm around Spike's shoulder. "Spike, man, ready for tonight?" he practically bellowed, grinning widely. Everyone around them all suddenly began talking about the big party tonight, hosted at la casa de Xander.  
  
Spike laughed and nodded. " 'Course I am. No party is a party without me there, you know that." His smile dropped when he looked at Buffy, who seemed detached from all the chatter about the party tonight. He realized that he was being a total jerk for not inviting her and talking about it in front of her. Spike cringed inwardly. He really wasn't a role model for this whole bet thing. Angel noticed his side glance, and he smirked evilly.  
  
He stepped in between Buffy and Spike, putting an arm around both their shoulders. Smiling enigmatically at Buffy, he winked. "Hey Buff, you should really come. It'll be great, I promise."  
  
Xander popped up behind the trio, grinning. "Yeah, my parties always are. No parents, lots of booze and empty rooms. They're great. You should come for sure," Xander requested of her, though he had no intentions of inviting her for the reason Angel did. She smiled a little at his overzealous excitement, his bright attitude latching on to her.  
  
"Maybe," she answered, and both Xander and Angel grinned.  
  
"Great," Xander said, and then stepped off to try and grope a feel from Anya. She pretended to feign anger until he reached a sensitive spot. Then she seemed to encourage it, while giggling coyly.  
  
"Ya, great Buff. Xander has a huge ass house. His dad's a major agent for all those stars and shit, so he has the perfect place for a party. All the booze you can handle, cool tunes, and the best hotties from this part of Cali. You won't regret coming, I promise." Angel promised her, winking one more time and slapping Spike's back again before he jogged off to his own car with Faith in the front seat.  
  
"Bye!" Everyone called out to each other. The sound of car engines and the smell of smoke filled the air as everyone took off, presumably going to get ready for Xander's party.  
  
Buffy climbed into the front seat of Spike's back Jeep, pulling her bag on her lap. She could hear Spike throwing thinks into the back trunk, and she smiled as she thought of his smirking face. Somehow, she was getting to really like him, and that was very dangerous. Best not go to this party thing tonight, or she might find herself in a very sensitive situation with Spike. She couldn't fall for him; it was like against her very geek core.  
  
"Hey," Spike greeted her as he flopped into the drivers seat.  
  
"Hey," she answered back, smiling against her will. She couldn't help it; it was like when Spike was near, it equaled major weird uncontrollable smiling. Shit. She sighed inwardly. This was so not good.  
  
"So," he started, as he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the highway that would lead to her house. "About this party tonight-''  
  
"I'm not going," Buffy interrupted him, surprising herself. He paused, eyebrows raised, but didn't say anything right away. For some reason she felt regret, and she was shocked to say that maybe she wanted to go to this party just a little bit. And she never had wanted to go to parties before.  
  
++Already he's having a bad effect! Abort mission! Abort mission!++  
  
"Sorry," Buffy added, as though he maybe would forget about it and not press the issue. Of course, to no avail. As he rounded the next bend, he glanced at her. "Well, okay."  
  
He smiled at her teasingly. "Who not though, pet? Have nothing pretty to wear to the party?"  
  
She smiled back, thinking that although that was true, that wasn't the real reason. Buffy sighed. "No, not that. It's just my dirty house, you remember. So, gotta clean it. And it will take all night." She risked a glance at his face.  
  
"Okay," he said easily, maneuvering the car as they rounded a bend. He didn't seem too disappointed, and that somehow pissed her off. She crossed her arms sulkily, and while her eyes turned away he risked a glance and a small smile her way. Spike thought she was just too cute, especially the way she was pouting and her forehead creased.  
  
+Bloody fuckin' hell, I just used the words 'too cute', in a sentence. Me. Jesus effin' Christ I better quite while I'm ahead. What would dear Connor say if he could see his soddin' older brother now?+  
  
Both Buffy and Spike were silent the rest of the way home.  
  
+!+!+!+!+  
  
Buffy scrubbed at a nonexistent spot on her kitchen counter, rubbing with a vengeance. She was muttering under her breath as she scrubbed viciously, the cloth practically shredding under her hand. She angrily flipped a piece of limp hair out of her face.  
  
"Stupid party. Stupid Spike. Stupid Spike for looking so nummy in the little trunks he was wearing," Buffy muttered under her breath. She looked up to see Dawn standing in front of her, holding a bag of chips and a Coke. Dawn gave her a weird look, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Always knew you were a freak," Dawn said, as she turned and flounced away. Buffy scowled, calling loudly, "Well, you're, you're, you're a bigger one who eats stupid chips, okay?"  
  
Buffy frowned as she realized what she had just said. "My god, I am a freak."  
  
She shrugged and went back to being angry, though she really wasn't actually, about the fact she wasn't going at all. "Nope, don't even care," Buffy whispered, attacking another spot on the stove.  
  
A couple of minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring shrilly. She sighed, flopping back her hair and tossing her cloth down in the sink. Trudging to the door, she tried to clean up her sweaty appearance and limp hair, praying to God that it wasn't Spike or someone equally as gorgeous.  
  
She opened the door. It was Spike, of course.  
  
"Oh god," she whimpered, slamming her head on the open doorway. Maybe if she blended in with her background Spike wouldn't even notice that she was there. She kept still, trying not to breathe loudly.  
  
Spike stood on the other side of the doorway, watching in concern and confusion as Buffy slammed her head against her door, then stayed in the smooshed-head position, not moving a muscle. He began to fear for her health.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike questioned, arching an eyebrow. He reached out a hand to shake her shoulder when her head popped up brightly, huge smile on her face. Spike jumped a little on the doorstep, her smile practically blinding him.  
  
"Oh, Spike! Hi! Didn't know you were here."  
  
She smiled still, eyes squinting together from the force of it. Spike gave her a confused look, resisting the urge to scratch his head. "Um, pet, you just opened the door for me."  
  
Buffy's smile faltered. "Yeah, well." She dropped the smile suddenly, all pretense of cheeriness gone. She crossed her arms, giving him an appraising look.  
  
"Whatever. This isn't about me. Why are you here?"  
  
"To pick you up of course, luv."  
  
"No," Buffy said, standing upright. "You're not." She glared at him. Why did he have to make things harder then they should be?  
  
"Yes," Spike answered with a smirk. He pushed past her and stepped into the house, turning to face her as she sputtered. "So hurry up."  
  
Buffy gave him a look. She wanted to go so bad that she figured it wouldn't be the end of the world if she said yes. "No," she said, just for the sake of defending her geekiness. But it was half-heartedly, and Spike's smirk grew as he realized she was going to come.  
  
"You're coming, so stop fighting and get ready."  
  
Buffy pretended to frown, but inside she was rejoicing. "Fine," she sighed exasperatedly, throwing up her arms in mock frustration, and Spike grinned.  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"But look at me!" Buffy whined, the sensible feminine side deep within her screaming in horror at the fact she looked like ass and had absolutely nothing cool to wear to the party. "I have nothing to wear."  
  
She brushed back her hair, eyes darting frantically. Spike chuckled, and held up his hands. Inside them he held a scrap of a . . . dress?! That wasn't no dress, it was more like underwear.  
  
Buffy's mouth dropped. "No way!" she shrieked. "That's not a dress, that could be my goddamn underwear!"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Shut up for once, pet. Just get ready. And don't worry, I got your underwear too," he added with a smirk and a wink. Buffy flushed.  
  
"I'm a mess," she pleaded, hoping that he might just rethink this whole party thing. She was going along the lines of a place where she could wear some sort of parka. But Spike just smiled.  
  
"Well, that's where I come on," a female accented voice said, and in flounced a pretty black girl with long dark dreads, and sparkling eyes, who had in her hand a huge gray case. She grinned at Spike, who grinned back.  
  
Buffy looked at her in surprise, her gaze alternating between the two in front of her. "Who are you?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Kendra," the girl answered. She motioned her head towards Spike. "His brother's girlfriend," Kendra clarified.  
  
She grabbed Buffy's arm and started toward the stairs. "Spike, we'll be upstairs if you need us, hun." Kendra told Spike before she and a terrified Buffy disappeared up the steps.  
  
Spike just chuckled to himself, dropping his lean frame into the nearest couch.  
  
***  
  
"When the hell was the last time you plucked, if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
Kendra stood over Buffy with a tweezer in her hand, trying to create some sort of shape out of the two thick lines planted on Buffy's face. Painfully, Buffy would add.  
  
"Ow!" Buffy yelled, cringing. "Well, um, never. What's so big about plucking, anyways? Not like I need it." Scratch that, extremely painfully. This could be used as a form of torture.  
  
Kendra stood back with a look of extreme shock on her exotic face, looking at Buffy like she was insane. "Well, girl, have you ever seen Burt on Sesame Street?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Well, those are the eyebrows you would have if you didn't pluck . . ."  
  
  
  
***  
  
Spike was starting to doze off in Buffy's living room when he heard a shrill yelp of pain. His eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. He relaxed when he realized it was Buffy.  
  
"Glad I don't have to work hard to be this handsome," Spike said to himself, grinning cockily to no one in particular. He cringed when he heard a harsh curse word that sounded like it was in Buffy's voice, accompanied by another scream.  
  
"Glad I'm not a women, either," he said, wincing. He settled back down into the plush couch, dirty combat boots propped up on the antique wooden coffee table, which dated back from the Victorian era.  
  
***  
  
"So you really never wear make up, girl?" Kendra asked as she applied black eyeliner to the top of Buffy's lid.  
  
Buffy squirmed under the black tip, and shook her head as softly as she could. That stick looked dangerous and she didn't fancy it poking her eye out. "Nope, almost never."  
  
"Really?" Kendra asked, almost in shock. "That's crazy. How come?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Dunno. Never interested me, I guess."  
  
Kendra finished applying Buffy's mascara, and then stood back up to appraise her work. She studied Buffy with an expert eye, suddenly frowning. She whipped around and started rummaging around in Buffy's drawer, the sound scaring Buffy immensely.  
  
"What are you doing?" Buffy questioned, shrinking back.  
  
"Nothing," the accented voice replied casually.  
  
Kendra turned back around, brandishing a long, gleaming pair of sharp scissors. It didn't help she was grinning manically. Buffy gasped, eyes wide.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Oh yes . . . now stay still. Wouldn't want to slice a chunk of flesh off."  
  
"What!?"  
  
"Um, nothing. Ha ha. Joke. Joking."  
  
"God help me."  
  
+!+!+!+  
  
Spike fidgeted on the couch, sighing and rustling his feet on the table. How bloody long could it possible take to paint up Buffy's face? Surely not the two and a half hours he had already spent there. He glanced at his watch, which prompted Dawn to pout and glare.  
  
"You're not even into the game! Pay attention."  
  
Dawn finished dealing out the cards, for the tenth round of Crazy Eights. Spike felt his brain being sucked out of him, with each passing minute. He groaned, but obeyed the wishes of the young teen.  
  
"This is the absolute last game."  
  
"Sure, sure. That's what you said five games ago." Dawn teased, then studied her cards with extreme concentration, the tip of her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth. Spike had to grin as he leaned forward and pretended to contemplate his own cards as hard as she was.  
  
Just as he was about to throw down the Queen of Spades (he figured he would get the game over with as quickly as possible), he heard the bounding of heeled footsteps on the stairs. He turned, expecting a pretty Buffy, but was assaulted with a harried Kendra.  
  
"Well?" Spike said, throwing down his cards and standing up, interrupting the game. Dawn glared at Kendra as she stood up too, which went unnoticed.  
  
Kendra just brushed back an errant piece of thick curls, and sighed dramatically. Spike leaned against the doorjamb in amusement, crossing his arms and smirking.  
  
"As much as I love you, pet, I don't want to see your face more then I have too." Spike said, and Kendra narrowed her eyes but broke into smile.  
  
"Shut up, Spike." Kendra paused, hands on hips. "She's ready. Finally. But you better pay me back for this one, no matter how much of a sweetie she was." Kendra teased, and Spike nodded in mock seriousness.  
  
"Okay," Kendra said, smirking slyly, "here she is. The new, and not really improved, but kinda new, Buffy Summers!"  
  
With a flourish, she opened her arms wide, beaming. Spike looked at the stairs, waiting expectantly for the treat he had been promised. But still, no sound was heard. Everyone was silent, waiting, even Dawn. Still no Buffy.  
  
"Buffy!" Kendra called, dropping the cheery pretense. Spike smirked. Kendra began to get frustrated.  
  
"Buffy! Get your nice ass down here or I will personally make sure to torture you with everyday with the tweezer, girl!"  
  
Spike stood straight, attentively, as one tentative foot stepped on the first step. Kendra broke into smile, anticipating the look on Spike's face when he saw what Buffy now looked like.  
  
The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion for Spike, like an amzing spell had been cast over him; the small foot, which was encased in black strappy, stiletto sandals, was the first thing he spotted. He noticed every minute detail, like the fact her toenails were painted a deep red that set off golden skin, and that she had the cutest toes ever.  
  
His eyes traveled up her foot, to a small ankle, than up to smooth, toned calves that led to cute, dimpled knees. Up over the knees, to sleek, shapely thighs that were covered mid-way. Covering the other, upper half was a black dress, made of silk, that clung to every curve. Her backside looked edible against the tight material, and Spike realized that fact with hungry eyes, ravishing her body with his gaze. He was not supposed to be into the bet this much.  
  
The dress went on to reveal curvy hips and a flat stomach, up still to encase small breasts that bared just a hint of tanned cleavage. Two thin straps went up around an elegant neck, tying in the back. Soft lips, outlined in a nude color, pursed, broke into a small smile. His eyes followed the line of her nose, to a set of beautiful sea-green eyes outlined in dark makeup. The sparkled as they hooked on to his own set of blues, and he took a sharp intake of breath.  
  
Long, shiny blonde hair cascaded down a bare, smooth back, ironed pin straight. It had been cut, to just past her shoulders, and face framing layers. As she floated down the steps, she brushed a strand of hair back, and revealed glittering diamonds in her ears. Spike's mouth went dry as they continued to lock gazes, as she stopped her descent in the middle of the stairs.  
  
She stood there, and just gazed at Spike. He gazed right back. Kendra noticed with satisfaction the look in Spike's eyes, the one of complete wonder and worship. And the look reflecting back from Buffy's was just about the same. She grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she turned to leave.  
  
Dawn was speechless, totally shocked by her sister's appearance. Buffy actually looked gorgeous, and was wearing an amazing pair of shoes. Dawn mentally noted that they would be perfect for the party this Saturday at Joey Donner's house.  
  
Finally, the spell seemed to be broken.  
  
"Wow," was all Spike could utter huskily, awestruck.  
  
+!+!+!+!+!+  
  
*To be continued . . . 


End file.
